


That Fear of Hers

by ThatOneHand



Series: That Series of Theirs [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Panic Attacks, Self Confidence Issues, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:08:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28622304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatOneHand/pseuds/ThatOneHand
Summary: She has to do that thing she dreads the most.
Series: That Series of Theirs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2097354
Kudos: 2





	That Fear of Hers

**Author's Note:**

> Are all the one shots faintly based on my own life? yeah, kinda.

This wasn’t normal for a girl her age.

The others had done this a thousand if not a million times already. So why… why couldn’t she?

She would normally wait until another person stood up and asked, and signaled her intentions. No words, no anxiety. The simple fact of having someone by her side subsided her anxiety by a ton.

Unfortunately, it had been almost an hour, and no one had stood up. She silently cursed as she inched closer to the border of her chair. She inhaled and exhaled. She was about to stand up when someone walked to the big desk next to the door with a notebook in hand. She stayed in her uncomfortable position. Half of her bottom in the chair while half hanged in the air. As the person returned to their chair, the girl repeated a calming technique she had seen somewhere.

(She couldn’t remember at the moment. Her mind had gone blank.)

She inhaled. _One, two, three, four,_ she counted in her head. She keep the air in. _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven._ She exhaled. _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight._

Her breathing had regulated. Good. She slowly stood up and hesitantly walked towards the big desk.

The desk was a normal desk, like any other. It was made out of metal and was full of normal things any desk would have. Some notebooks and files scattered around it, and a vase with pencils and pens. Next to it was a totally normal chair, in which sat a totally normal woman.

Why did this desk cause such trouble within the girl?

_No, it’s not the desk._

It wasn’t the person sitting in it either. Or maybe it was. But the fact, the thought of having to interact with that person sent chills down the girls spine.

As she walked closer to the desk, she ran through her head what exactly she was going to say.

She couldn’t talk informally, it could be seen as disrespect. Disrespect meant a scolding and then humiliation.

She couldn’t talk way too formally either. It could be seen as a mock (which would also lead to a scolding, and then humiliation), or worse the woman could think she had an advanced vocabulary.

Which would lead to an advanced syllabus, which would lead to her doing everything wrong (which she obviously would do), which would lead to disappointment and then humiliation.

That’s when she noticed her beating heart. It was like an animal in imprisonment, trying to get out by any means.

She had no time left to think, for she had already approached the desk, so close she could reach out and grab one of the scattered papers, or a pencil even.

Her heart was going a million miles an hour now. Like the caged beast had been angered and now the beats of her heart were going at a dizzying pace.

“M-Miss”, her heart wasn’t beating like an angry beast anymore. Now it was a drum being played by the most talented drummer in the world, beating the drum at an incredibly fast rhythm.

Ba-dumpst

Ba-dumpst

Ba-dumpst. Ba-dumpst.

Ba-dumpst. Ba dumpst. Ba dumpst ba-dumpst ba-dumpst _badumpst **badumpst-**_

“Yes?” _Oh, no._ Now the woman was looking directly at her. Those intense eyes stared at her as if they were staring directly at her soul, uncovering all her secrets.

Her heart rate accelerated to a pace she had previously deemed impossible. The beat of her heart was the only sound she could hear. With every “ba-dumpst” she heard, she felt faint. The sound of blood pumping through her ears was deafening.

When had the air gotten thinner? She started breathing heavier and heavier. Well, what she was doing couldn’t be described as breathing. It was more of a sucking in air. She couldn’t breath anymore. What was that technique? Breath in, breath out? But she was already doing that!

Was this going to happen? Was she going to faint? She prayed to whatever superior being there was, if there was one, to not let her face such humiliation.

As she opened her mouth to speak, she could feel every eye in the room staring at her, revealing her every thought.

She couldn’t hear the next words as they breathlessly left her mouth.

“M-May I go to the bathroom?”

**Author's Note:**

> I used to have some hard social anxiety, still do, but im kinda more confident now, well, a lot more confident, I still panic when I have to ask to go to the bathroom tho.


End file.
